


Fate

by TheSassBrit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Red String of Fate, Soulmate AU, haven't written for them in forever, i need to change that, if you guys like this and want more i can continue, just posting this for now, one damn good thing about quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSassBrit/pseuds/TheSassBrit
Summary: Everyone in Thedas has a red string on their finger, created by a spirit from the day they're born. The other end is to their soulmate. Cullen Rutherford tries to forget this.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67
Collections: Tessa Trevelyan





	Fate

Cullen’s red string didn’t show up until he was 7 years old. 

The little loop of red thread suddenly appeared on his little finger on the 10th day of Harvestmere. He remembered racing toward his mother, bouncing up and down as he tried to show her. Rebecca Rutherford had laughed, beaming at him. “Cull, I can’t see your soul string. Only you and your soulmate can see it, silly.”

As a child, Cullen didn’t fully grasp the concept of the soul string. 

He knew a spirit was involved, and that the string was connected to someone else, but that was it. 

The string pointed northeast and it was barely visible. 

His father answered his question as to why it was like that. “Well, the more faint it is, the farther away they are,” he explained, wiping his brow. Both of them were out in the wheat fields. “And if its northeast, that means they’re either in northern Ferelden or the Free Marches.”

Aaron Rutherford tilted his head, squatting down so he was eye level with Cullen. “How faint is it?”

Cullen held his hand up close to his face, nose scrunching up as he stared at his little finger. “I can see through it. And I can barely see the red!”

His father hummed in thought at that. “Ah, they must be really up north then.”

Cullen pouted, looking down at his hand. “How am I s’posed to meet them when they’re so far away?” he whined. 

Aaron had given him a sympathetic smile and ruffled Cullen’s hair. “Dunno. But don’t give up. You have the rest of your life to meet them. The Maker and the spirit watching over you will know when you will, and that’s all that matters.”

In bed that night, Cullen stared at his hand, grinning. 

Everyone had this little string, but this one was special. This one was just for him and his soulmate. 

He couldn’t wait to meet them.

* * *

Tessa couldn’t ever remember a time she _didn’t_ have the red string.

Her father always told her that she always was looking at her left hand, where the string would be wrapped around her little finger. 

The six year old was staring at her finger today because her string was doing something new. 

The string extended maybe three or four inches away from her. Before it always pointed southwest and never moved. Now, it was slowly inching east. Tessa stared at it with wide eyes. Her grandfather found her like that, sitting in her pony’s stall and staring at her hand. 

“Tessy, your mother is in a tizzy because you’re almost late to supper,” he laughed, tapping his cane against the stall door. 

Blossom huffed at the noise. The palomino pony nudged Bann Trevelyan’s arm, demanding a snack. 

Tessa hopped up and ran over to the door. “Papa, my string is moving,” she whispered, still mystified. 

Frederic Trevelyan stared at his granddaughter, holding back laughter. She was watching her little finger with an awestruck expression on her face. She suddenly gasped. 

“It stopped!”

“Ah, they must have been travelling or something.” Frederick held up his own left hand. “The spirit in charge of your soul string must really want you to know about your soulmate. Mine only moves a little bit when your grandma walks around the estate.”

Tessa stared up at him with wide eyes. “Where do you think they are, Papa?”

Frederic shrugged and opened the stall door, letting his little Tessy out. “Well, you said it was faint, right?”

She nodded. 

“They’re probably down in Ferelden. Don’t worry, love, you’ll meet them someday. The spirit is kind like that,” he explained. 

Tessa knew she should listen to her grandfather about this. Being a former Templar, he knew all about spirits and stuff from when he worked with mages. Mages were able to explain exactly how the soul string worked. 

The spirit only made the connection if it absolutely knew the person had a strong chance of meeting their soulmate. 

Tessa bit her lip, looking up at her grandfather. “What if they don’t like me?” she whispered, walking by his side as they made their way back to the estate.

Frederic let out a laugh. “Why wouldn’t they like you?”

Tessa sighed. “Oliver told me that I’m too girly and bossy.”

Frederic rolled his eyes. “Since when is Oliver right about anything?” He stopped when she didn’t laugh along. He grinned and squatted down, getting eye level with her. “Tess, you are a brilliant, kind, and beautiful girl. Your soulmate will fall in love with you immediately.” 

Tessa’s lips pulled up into a smile. Her grandfather was right. Oliver _was_ wrong about a lot of stuff. Grandfather was usually right about almost anything. “You really think so?”

Frederic rested his forehead against his granddaughters. “With all my heart.”

The little girl couldn’t help but giggle and she held her grandfather’s hand as they kept walking. 

Her eyes looked down at the string on her little finger. 

She prayed her soulmate was willing to wait for her.

* * *

Cullen woke with a gasp in a cold sweat. 

His whole body shook as the remnants of the nightmare shook through him. 

“Shit,” he hissed, trying to catch his breath. 

His limbs started to tremble and he sighed, looking out of the window of his room in Greenfell’s Chantry. It had been a couple months since Knight-Commander Greagoir sent him there. 

The nightmares just kept coming. 

The sun was beginning to rise in the horizon, causing light to dimly shine through the window. Cullen rubbed his face with his hands, trying to calm down. The Sisters and Brothers there were patient with him, but he felt he was getting nowhere. 

The nightmares kept coming. The paranoia was still there. 

_**She**_ kept appearing out of the corner of his eye. 

Cullen had desperately tried to squash the infatuation he had with Amnell, but it never went away. He remembered guiltily looking down at his left hand whenever she spoke with him. The string was still faint, and he was told people had relationships before they met their soulmates all the time. 

Not that he ever pursued one with Amnell. 

It was against the rules, and now it made his skin crawl. 

She was a _mage_.

And the desire demon picked up on both his infatuation and who it was with immediately. 

He angrily shoved his blanket off and got out of bed. He shivered when his bare feet touched the stone floor. He looked out at the horizon, feeling more bitter than ever. 

Why did he even bother? 

He was stuck in this circle of self loathing and hatred toward magic. 

If he didn’t hate himself for surviving or getting caught in the first place, he hated mages and blood magic and everything magic touched. His breathing started to quicken at the thought and he shook it from his thoughts, not wanting to start the day with a panic attack. 

The young Templar eventually made it over to the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass.

His hands found their way to the windowsill. He looked down and his breath caught in his throat as he stared at his left hand. His soul string had pointed northeast for as long as he remembered. Sometimes it moved west and would stay there all summer before moving northeast again. Now, it was moving. It kept moving until it pointed almost exactly north from him. 

His heart felt like a block of ice as it sunk down to his feet. 

With everything that happened, he almost forgot about his soulmate. 

His eyes hardened as they looked down at the faint red string. 

A spirit supposedly made that string. What if it was a demon? What if the mages lied all along and the spirit string was just another way for demons and blood mages to control everyone?

His breathing started to pick up again and Cullen quickly looked away. 

He wasn’t going to fall for any more tricks. 

Some demon wasn’t going to tell him who he was supposed to be soulmates with, if such a thing even existed. 

No blood mage was ever going to have a hold of him again.

He will be strong. 

And so, Cullen began the practice of never looking down at his left hand. 

Soon, the string was ignored, but never truly forgotten.

* * *

A 16 year old mage looked out the window of her room at the Circle of Ostwick. 

A rage demon had approached her again, causing her to wake up. She wondered what she could do to try to shake off her nightmare. 

She used to be able to go to the library to work out thoughts such as these, but the whole room was tainted from the memory of what happened there. And if she wanted to go anywhere else, she would need a Templar. 

Sighing, she sat down on her bed. 

Three months ago, a Templar tried to attack and rape her. 

Bile rose in her throat at the thought. She wished she could go back in time and warn herself. Tell herself to listen to the other mages’ warnings about him. Tell her to bring her staff with her to the library. 

But, that wasn’t possible. 

Her stomach churned and she felt like she was going to be sick. She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back a sob. 

That brought her face to face with her soul string. 

She held her hand out, looking down at the string, mouth turning down into a bigger frown. Soulmate or not, who would want her? She was stupid enough to put herself in that situation. It was all her fault. 

Would they want someone who was almost violated? 

Would they be happy with someone so stupid?

No, they wouldn’t. 

Tears started to trail down her cheeks. Besides, she was a Circle Mage. The odds of her being able to go out and find her soulmate were slim to none. She curled up into a ball on her bed and she tried to block out those thoughts. 

She didn’t need to think about that right now. 

That was how Lydia found her hours later. 

“Tessa, you missed breakfast.”

Tessa tried to keep her voice even. “I know.”

Enchanter Lydia was not one of the most powerful mages in Ostwick for nothing. The older woman’s dark brown eyes softened and her face fell at the sight of her apprentice. 

Tessa was such a bright student. She passed her Harrowing in almost record time and had impeccable control of her magic.

She wasn’t the bright and cheerful girl she knew. 

This was a hollow shell of the girl she took on to surpass her. 

Lydia slowly made her way over to the young mage’s bed and she sat at the foot. 

The two women stayed silent for many moments. 

Lydia gently placed a hand on Tessa’s leg. “You can’t hide in here,” she said quietly, rubbing gentle circles along Tessa’s calf. 

Tessa gulped down the lump in her throat. “I know.”

A heavy silence fell over them, making the mood in the room even more somber. 

“It’s not your fault,” Lydia whispered. “You must know it’s not your fault.”

Tessa barely held back a sob. “I should have listened to everyone.” 

Lydia’s voice was more stern this time. “Tessa Trevelyan, this is not your fault.” 

Both mages fell silent again. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional caws of birds or shuffling of feet in the hallway. 

“Why did it happen to me?” Tessa whispered. 

Lydia scooted closer so she could tuck some of Tessa’s hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, but know that it shouldn’t have happened at all.” 

Tessa scrunched up her nose at that. Lydia started to run her fingers through her hair, reminding her of her mother. The sinking feeling she felt slowly went away and she sighed. “I should have-”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about that at all.” Lydia moved closer and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Tessa’s temple. “ _You_ were the one who was wronged, not him.”

Despite everything, Lydia’s words did help lift her spirits a little. Deep down, she knew what Lydia said was true, but those damn thoughts would slither back in and take over when she was at her weakest. 

A comfortable silence fell over them. Lydia was still running her fingers through Tessa’s hair and the tension slowly melted out of her body.

“I have some good news, despite everything,” Lydia continued. 

Tessa knew she better sit up for this. She moved so she could sit and she gave Lydia a weary, but expectant look. 

“The First Enchanter and the Knight-Captain approved of my plan to teach you Knight Enchanter magic. It’ll have to be in secret, but I’m not going to let some fool of an old man take that from you.” 

Tears pricked at Tessa’s eyes and she almost started to sob then and there. 

After she was attacked, the Knight-Commander demanded she only be able to specialize as a spirit healer, since he said he lost one of his best Templars because of her. 

Now, Lydia was giving her a way to learn. 

This could be her chance to be happy again. 

She threw her arms around her mentor, tears finally spilling. 

Lydia hugged her back. “I won’t lie. This will be hard because we have to get up even earlier or stay up later to avoid being caught. But I know you can do it.”

Tessa pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “When do we start?”

* * *

Cullen stared at his left hand, the first time he allowed himself to in years. 

Cassandra had just offered him a position as the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. He had asked for a day to give her his answer, and she allowed him to have it. 

The little red string was moving south. It had pointed straight east for years now, something he noticed when he glanced at it, but now it was moving. 

He scrubbed at his face, steepling his fingers in front of him as he looked out of the small opening to his tent. Maker, how long did he let hate blind him? How long did he refuse happiness for the sake of bitterness?

He couldn’t help but pull his hands away and look down at his soul string again. 

Maker, how long had he ignored them?

Guilt and bitterness settled in his heart at the thought. 

What should he do? 

Yes, the Templars at Kirkwall needed leadership and guidance more than ever, but what could he really do here?

If the Inquisition reformed, he could use that to _**do**_ something. He could change. 

He could become better. 

He could learn and grow from his past mistakes. 

It was a chance to become the man the person on the other side of this string deserved. 

A letter from his sister sat on his desk in the corner, causing his throat to close up. Too long. Too long did he let his hatred and fear rule over him. He saw what that did for him and those around him. 

If he opened his eyes and let go of his hate sooner, he could have helped others sooner. He could have noticed Merideth’s corruption and acted on it faster. 

So many ifs in his life, he wanted to stop them. 

He made his decision not even an hour after Cassandra left him. 

The Templar left his tent and started to search for the Seeker. 

His heart pounded, but he suddenly hadn’t felt more sure about anything in his life. 

Cullen was going to do this, and he was going to succeed. 

He had to.

* * *

Tessa couldn’t help but stare down at her left hand. 

She and a group of mages and Templars from Ostwick that remained loyal to the Chantry were marching to the Conclave, but she noticed something as they traveled. Her red string looked solid for the first time in her life. 

Was her soulmate at the Conclave? Or was it going to start to fade again as they got closer?

Unfortunately, the others around her noticed her staring. 

“Is your soul string acting up?” an older mage named Clara asked, peering over at her hand. 

Tessa quickly tucked her hand at her side. “It’s solid. It’s never been solid.”

Clara beamed. “Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate at the Conclave! Isn’t that exciting?”

Tessa’s heart fluttered in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. What if she did finally meet her soul mate? All of her questions could finally be answered. Maybe something good could finally come from all of this. “I hope they are,” she replied, grinning. 

Clara and a couple other mages kept asking about her soul string, which led to discussions about their own. Tessa was glad they could all focus on something other than why they were traveling in the first place. 

Some of the Templars even joined in and soon, everyone was either talking about their soulmate or who they hope their soulmate might be. 

“Who do you hope it is?” a younger mage asked. 

All eyes turned to her. 

Tessa honestly never put that much thought into it. “Well, they’re my soulmate, right? They’ll be who they need to be for me and I’ll be the same for them.” 

Everyone either teased her or smiled at her answer, but the mood was definitely lighter when the conversation finally died. 

Now that she was thinking hard about it, Tessa took the time to look down at her hand. The string was pointing straight toward Haven. Tessa’s heart fluttered again and she vowed to make it to Haven. 

Not even the war was going to stop her.

For the first time in her life, she could find something happy again, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

* * *

Cullen kept losing track of what Leliana and Josephine were saying. 

His heart wouldn’t stop thudding in his chest. 

His soul string had been moving non-stop ever since the Breach formed. He had to force himself to focus when he noticed that it was pointing toward the Chantry before he went to what was left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

Even while wave after wave of demons appeared, his string would keep moving. It looked the most solid it had ever been and it finally pointed toward the Breach. 

Now, it was pointing toward the door of the room they held their meetings in. Both Josephine and Leliana have noticed his distracted state and he berated himself each time. He had to focus to help the Inquisition. Unfortunately, his soulmate would probably have to wait. 

His stomach churned at the thought, because he finally had a good idea of who his soulmate could be, and it terrified him. 

After the Breach’s growth was stalled, his soul string pointed toward the little cabin the Herald of Andraste was in for three days. 

Maker, what if it was her?

His stomach churned even more at the thought. He had hoped to meet his soulmate after all of this mess was dealt with, not right in the middle of it. He had hoped he would be a better and stronger man before he met them. One free of lyrium and his past, not battling it. 

His heart almost stopped when the door opened and Cassandra stepped in. Behind her, was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. 

Cullen’s breath caught and he stared at the Herald of Andraste. Her eyes were equally as wide and she was staring straight at him. 

And in-between them was a perfect, taut red string connected to both of their little fingers on the left hand. 

Cullen had imagined this moment many times during his childhood and even when he was a young Templar. He had only recently allowed himself those fantasies again. 

He had imagined having time to prepare. 

He would have had a speech ready, perhaps a gift. 

But, if Cullen learned one thing about life, it was that it wasn’t simple or easy. 

And to his surprise, he found himself not fretting about that. A jittery feeling came to his limbs as his heart started to pick up the pace and pound against his ribcage. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

A tiny smile came to her lips and she looked breathless. 

It seemed both of them were brought back to the present by a polite cough. 

“Are you alright, Commander?” Josephine asked, a worried expression on her face. 

Leliana was looking between him and the Herald with narrowed eyes. 

Knowing her, the woman probably already figured it out. 

Maker, what was he going to do?

He wanted to push everything aside and just _talk_ to her, but he also knew they had duties to fulfill. 

His mind was muddled and he used every ounce of willpower in him to get through the introductions and meetings. 

Tessa...that was his soulmate’s name. 

The meeting finally drew to a close and Cullen didn’t move to leave like the others did. Neither did the Herald. 

Cassandra looked impatient but left regardless. Cullen knew without a doubt that Leliana knew now. She had too much of a knowing look on her face. Josephine, meanwhile, was too busy fretting over something on her clipboard to notice. 

Finally, they were alone. 

The Herald of Andraste let out a shaky breath. “Well, I finally found you,” she said softly, tears forming in her eyes. 

Cullen felt as if something was pulling him towards her and he didn’t resist. Finally, he was standing next to her and he took her left hand in both of his. 

“Yes, you did,” he said softly. 

All of his worries and fears disappeared for just a moment and Cullen allowed himself to have this. 

He felt _right_.

For the first time in years, he felt calm and at peace. 

He was **home.**

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually wrote this a year ago, and I just now have the courage to post it. LIfe in general has just kicked my fangirling in the butt. Between having an actual full time job, owning a house, having fur babies, and bills and-...well you get it. Life sucks all the energy out of me sometimes. But, I am determined to get to writing more again. I miss it and my therapist said it will help me deal with being a nurse during a pandemic and I can't help but agree with her. So, I hope you enjoy and expect more from me soon!


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